My Rendition of The Hunchback of Notre Dame
by I love Michael Jackson
Summary: I cast the "Hunchback" in my mind as a tribute to Michael. Here's how it goes: Esmeralda: Me Quasimodo: Michael Jackson Frollo: Joe Jackson No flames on this story. I'm serious. It's a tribute to my angel, Michael Joseph Jackson.


My rendition of The Hunchback Of Notre Dame

A/N: This is how it would be if Michael and I knew each other in a past life...or something.

Claude Frollo (Joe Jackson) dragged his son, Quasimodo (Michael Jackson-RIP, Michael. I love you forever, my angel.) through Paris towards the cathedral as the Festival of Fools was in full swing. There was a huge group of people near a particular spot in the festival. Frollo stopped for a second. Quasimodo couldn't fathom what could be so interesting.

Frollo was caught off-guard when he saw what the crowd was oogling at: A beautiful gypsy girl, who couldn't have been more than 16 years of age, was dancing in an erotic fashion to entice men and earn money. "May I introduce..." The jester called out..."The beautiful...the talented..._La Esmeralda!" _Esmeralda was talented, no doubt, and just her name had enough beauty to make any man swoon. She was tall and muscular, with golden brown skin and long, wavy black hair tied back with a pink scarf. Her eyes were gorgeous; they were a mix of blue, grey, and green. She wore a loose white blouse, excessive amounts of gold jewelry, and a purple skirt. One other thing was noticable about Esmeralda: She wore no shoes.

Frollo was caught between being suddenly lovestruck and his vow to the church. "Ugh," he said, wrinkling his nose, "look at that _disgusting_ display." Esmeralda paid no attention to his words; she radiated beauty and confidence. The way she gyrated her hips and twirled about; Frollo would have to be a homosexual to not have "dirty" thoughts about her.

Quasimodo, on the other hand, felt sorry for the girl. Sure, she was talented at dancing, but she was using it for the wrong purpose. She was so beautiful...why did she do this to herself? Quasi sighed in helpless despair. He decided he would watch Esmeralda dance until the show was over, and then go talk to her.

"Come, Quasimodo." Frollo said, tugging at his son's hand, "You don't need to be enticed by heathen gypsies such as these." "No, I want to stay, Father." Quasimodo objected, "I want to help her." "_Help?" _Frollo inquired, then laughed, "The only "help" you could do for this girl, Quasimodo, is by not giving her the satisfaction of your attention. Now come on, let's go." "No." Quasimodo insisted, and stood his guard.

"Fine, Quasimodo," Frollo sighed, "I don't have time for this foolishness." And walked off towards the church while Quasimodo continued to watch Esmeralda. "Thank you, thank you!" She yelled to the crowd as they threw coins at her feet, "Your generosity is greatly appreciated!" She then picked up the coins and put them into a small pink purse.

Quasi walked up to the place where Esmeralda was standing. "Excuse me, Miss?" He said nervously. "Yes?" Esmeralda said, looking at Quasi after she had finished putting her coins away, "How can I help you?" "Um....well..." Quasi hesitated, "I couldn't help but wonder..." "Yes?" Esmeralda asked patiently. She couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with the boy. "I was wondering....why do you do this?" Quasi finally finished his thought. "I have to keep food on the table somehow." Esmeralda laughed, and then turned her back to walk away. Quasi suddenly felt like an idiot. "No," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, "that's not what I meant. I mean, why do you use your talent to entice men like this? Why not in theater or something?" "Look," Esmeralda said, stopping in her tracks, "young man, that is just the gypsies' way. We give the people what they want, and they give us money for it. Now, will you please just let me do my job?"

Quasi sighed again. He would never get the point across to this girl. "It embarrasses me to say this, Esmeralda," he began, "but...you're too beautiful to be doing this to yourself. How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?" "Sixteen." She said. "God," Quasi said, running a hand through his hair, "You could be doing so much with your life. You could be helping children...animals... You just don't get it, Esmeralda!" And a smile crossed his face, "There's a whole big world out there, don't you see? You just have to open those beautiful eyes of yours and look at it the right way." Esmeralda laughed and kissed him on the cheek.

That night, when Esmeralda laid her head down to sleep, that beautiful, yet deformed creature's words kept playing over and over again in her mind... "You're too beautiful..." And then she was off to slumberland.

The End.


End file.
